Motivations of the Big Bad

Another thing I think about a lot of the time is the motivations of my Big Bad. I’m running out of ideas for something new.

An example is Justice League. (Spoilers, I guess.) The motivation of Steppenwolf is to find these 3 magic mcguffins, and then use their power to “terraform” the planet into his. (His ecology is apparently lots of fire and yelling, none of those awful plants or animals)

This is really dumb, because it presumes that for some reason there’s not a lot of interesting places to terraform. We’re talking about a universe with both Old and New Gods, and dimensional travel and all sorts of other things, AND probably the Drake Equation. So … why the hell does he even need Earth? Just find a rock in the habitable zone you need, and use the boxes to “clean it up”. No muss, no fuss, and no pesky Atlanteans and Amazons messing with you.

In other words: this is an example of a Big Bad whose motivation is dumb. He’s a garden-variety sadist with a magic McGuffin. That’s boring.

Another funny thing to think about is how any attempt to bring forth some “new dark age” will always end up creating a boring, bureaucratic empire. Your glorious dark legions will run out of things to conquer, and will spend most of their time trying to get those layabouts in the GleepGlorp mountains to pay their goddamned taxes. I mean, what else can happen, once you’re on the throne? What the hell else would happen had Sauron won? He’d have plowed over the gentle agrarian Hobbits in favor of factory farms, and you can’t just kill them all because those Orcs of yours are hungry.

So I’m thinking a lot about the idea of a kind of aging Dark Lord. He conquered the known world with fire and steel and his evil magics, every hero fell before his loathsome might. But now, it’s a thousand years later. The players take the role of higher-ups in his regime. They have to deal with all sorts of unusual problems: reports of a rebellion (turns out it’s just a play, but the regime refuses to listen – and wants the “rebels” exterminated), politics (those pesky taxes and the functionaries who collect them), and what happens when your death-dealing shock troops run out of enemies. As a kind of complication, the players may work for a kind of Chaotic Evil regime but they themselves are not really evil at all.

It might get boring, or it might be hilarious. I can’t decide.

A review: Dungeon Fantasy (powered by GURPS)

On the surface, Dungeon Fantasy (hereafter, DF) is pretty simple:

  1. Take GURPS
  2. Remove anything not relevant to a generic fantasy milieu
  3. Remove anything that’s not, well, generic
  4. Streamline and simplify any rules you have left
  5. Bundle together a bunch of stuff into generic fantasy tropes (e.g. a “bard” class)

As they point out, the entire game is fewer words than Volume 1 of 4E. When I say “remove” or “simplify”, I mean it.

Most of it is easily and quickly recognizable as GURPS; the edit job is very good. Anyone with a few games of GURPS under their belt will quickly and easily make sense of it all. The streamlining is also very good, so people who were intimidated by GURPS will have no trouble picking things up.

It makes you ask the question, though: who is this for?

Experienced GURPS gamers have little need for a generic rules-light fantasy game.

[Sidebar: I struggled over the term ‘rules-light’. Even in its slimmed-down form, DF has more rules than what usually passes for rules light in the latter half of 2017. That said, compared to GURPS is practically Apocalypse World, so maybe rules-light is the best descriptor.]

A very experienced GURPS group might be doing something like a big custom setting with massive customization. GURPS makes one-shots very difficult. If nothing else just telling everyone the parameters for character creation can take a ton of effort! DF takes all that and lets you do simple exploration/dungeon crawl fantasy games.

Inexperienced gamers in search of more crunch but hesitating to take the plunge into the very heavy game system of GURPS will benefit from the simpler rules, that they can later switch to if it pleases them.

Overall, I like it, but I’m uncertain just how much staying power it has compared to a full-fledged GURPS game. Once you’ve run a few one-shots and leveled up a few characters, what then?

Edited to add: I forgot to mention a couple of points. First, production design and quality are as you’d expect from SJGames: really good. The books have a somewhat minimal style with good (but not great) art. The text is clear and readable, “scannable”, and everything is indexed and easy to find.

Second, the more I think about it, the more I like it. My initial “what then”, the more I think about it, gives way to an organic “sandbox” style of gaming instead of the big, up-front games we’re used to. Maybe that’s good.

RPG damage systems are garbage

RPG damage systems are garbage. Games obsess about “realism” and then lose their minds when damage is calculated.

In the real world, stopping power looks like this. Therefore our “realistic” damage system that looks like this:

Roll 1d10. For each additional hit sustained, subtract 1. On a roll of 4 or less, you die. On a 5 or 6, you are incapacitated. On 7 or greater, you are injured.

This system assumes center-mass; head hits are usually lethal (1-9 on d10) and limb hits usually not (maybe 1-2). Also note that the above assumes a handgun; a rifle or shotgun is basically “8 or less and you die”.

No one wants to play that game, because combats will be over very quickly: a hail of bullets followed by a desperate need to get just about everyone still breathing to a trauma center.

We have no data about blasters and so forth, but we can presume that future weapons will be more lethal as time goes on.

Fantasy games have a problem, in that we don’t have much in the way of statistical data about swords and spears, the way we do for pistols and buckshot. We are also viewing data through a historical lens. 

We don’t have any serious data about obvious things: just how effective was a crusader longsword against mail? Or arrows? How many hits could a person take? Could armor turn dozens of blows?

Guesses are all we have (although many are very well-educated). 2 great books on the subject, “On Killing” and “The Face Of Battle”, provide some insight. Our damage table of “struck my a medium weapon while wearing chain mail” probably looks something like this:

Roll 1d10. 1-3, you die. 4-7, you have a serious wound and are incapacitated. 8-10, you are injured.

Note that in both cases we take incapacitated to mean “unconscious, stunned, in shock, or otherwise unable to fight”. We define injured as alert and (possibly) able to fight back. Injuries will (obviously?) require treatment, and even if the fight ends the injured party might still pass out or die. Dead is still dead.

Also we have to deal with injury in a realistic way. In AD&D a creature can huge amounts of damage to a player, and the fix is relax at a convenient tavern for a period of time. A gunshot wound to the forearm can – and probably will – cause permanent nerve, muscle, or bone damage (likewise for the impact of a mace). The bones may mend, but will the hand ever again hold a weapon? 

No one wants to play a game where sickness, injury, and being permanently crippled in the first play session are serious parts of the game (counter-example: the very strange Torchbearer). So what role (no pun intended) does serious realism actually play? How does it affect narrative vs grognard gaming?